The Letter
by Everlong
Summary: When Faramir receives a mysterious letter, can he solve the puzzle it contains in time?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, especially not these characters.

A/N. I'm baaaaaaacccccckkkkk! I started this story in the middle of my other one, but don't worry, I'll finish it.

The letter had lain unopened on Faramir's desk for at least a few days. His time in his office had been busily spent, with Gondor's approaching trade talks with Harad, and the constant flood of papers from Rohan. Apparently Eomer felt that his sister's well-being was in question, so the Steward of Gondor had been in a constant state of sending messengers to Edoras with news of Eowyn's health. Faramir had also fallen into the bad habit of leaving his office a little earlier every day, and racing home to spend extra time with his new family.

Every day, he ran down the stairs, out of the Tower, across the streets, straight to his house. Once there, he greeted the servants as cordially as he could, then raced up the stairs to the nursery. There, his new son and his wife sat by the window, Eowyn's lips lifted into a soft smile, no doubt by the sight of her husband racing through the streets of Minas Tirith. Faramir would step quietly across the nursery to them, brushing his lips across Eowyn's lips and brow. Then, he would fold himself into the chair across from her, and Eowyn would carefully lift Elboron into his father's arms. There they would all sit, and Faramir was quite content to stay in the warm afternoon sunlight, talking softly to Eowyn about her day, answering her questions about his own work, and listening to Elboron stir softly in his arms.

And so the letter stayed virtually unnoticed. Faramir had glanced at it once or twice, mentally brushing it off as another "urgent" letter from Eomer. Faramir swore that the minute the Royal Couple of Rohan announced that they would soon be welcoming a new arrival, he would send an entire cavalry of messengers to the Mark, each of them armed with multiple letters inquiring after Lothiriel. 

Even after the second letter arrived, Faramir didn't give it much thought. Gondor was deeply into the trade talks by then, and Faramir hardly had time to spend in his office. His late afternoons with Eowyn and Elboron had turned into early evenings and then to a few stolen moments between dinner and bedtime. Every night he held Eowyn close to him, telling her how much he desired the talks to be over, how he longed for their old routine. After spending the first part of his life in a constant state of fear and loneliness, Faramir very much wanted to be at peace.

By the time the third letter arrived, the talks were nearly over. When the letter came to him, Faramir distantly recognized the very distinct lettering on the front. He quickly rummaged through the mountains of papers on his desk and managed to unearth the first two letters. As he began to open the first one, he felt a chill run down his spine. Quickly looking around and realizing he was alone, Faramir internally scolded himself. It was just a letter. Just a few pieces of paper. He turned it over in his hands. As his fingers ran over the unfamiliar seal, Faramir felt another chill run down his back. This time the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end. He quickly stuffed all three letters into his bag and headed home. It wasn't until he was locked in his own personal study that Faramir began to breathe correctly again.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. 

Faramir stared at the letter in his trembling hands. All sense of logic and reason had fled him. He turned the letter over and over in his hands, debating whether he should tell Eowyn about it. He didn't know if he could explain his feelings. All he knew was something about it frightened him.

Very carefully, as to not break the seal, he slid his fingers deftly through the flap. Opening the letter fully, he began to read.

Minutes later, he was done. His senses were back to him. He quickly tucked the papers inside his tunic, and opened his study door.

"Eowyn!" he called for his wife. "Eowyn, are you here?"

His wife came hurrying down the stairs. "Faramir, what is it?" she cried. "Why do you speak with such urgency?"

Faramir took hold of her upper arms and pulled her close to him. His eyes searched her worried face, and he fought back the natural urge to console her. There was simply no time.

"Eowyn," he began, "I need you to pack up our things. Enough clothes for at least a month. Riding clothes, formal clothes, everything. Elboron's belongings, too. Please do this as quickly as possible. Do whatever is needed to prepare Elboron for the journey. Do not speak of this with anyone."

"Faramir," she said slowly, "what is happening? What is going on? Where are we going?"

Faramir lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. "I cannot speak of it here. Do not worry. Please, my love, do this for me." He planted a soft kiss on her head, and allowed himself a brief embrace. All he really wanted to do was curl up in bed with her, with Elboron cradled between them. But there was no time. He pulled back. "Can you manage on your own," he asked.

Eowyn nodded carefully. She trusted her husband even if he was behaving strangely.

Faramir stepped away from her and began to pull on his riding cloak. "I will send a guard to escort you and Elboron to the stables. I will meet you there."

Eowyn followed him to the entrance hall. "But where are you going? Where are we going?"

Faramir swung the door open and stepped outside. The air had suddenly turned cold. "I am going to see the King," he replied quietly. "We are going to Edoras."

And then he stepped out into the street, leaving Eowyn alone with many, many questions.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Faramir set off at a pace towards the Citadel. He knew that the King and Queen, along with the infant prince Eldarion, would be taking their late meal there. He nodded to several guards on his way, and after extracting promises of silence, sent word with one of them to send the King's personal escort to the stables.

The Steward made his way up the stairs and stopped just outside the small anteroom where the Royal Family was dining. He peeked inside and smiled inwardly at the sight in front of him.

The High King of Gondor and Arnor sat at the head of the small table. He was leaning over a smaller chair and Faramir chuckled to see a tiny hand smearing potatoes all over Elessar's face. Aragorn was smiling in spite of himself, but was still desperately trying to place at least a small amount of food in Eldarion's mouth. Arwen was laughing at her husband's futile attempts to feed their son dinner.

Faramir sighed and looked away for a moment. The sight of Aragorn with his son and wife reminded Faramir strongly of his own small family. He looked down at his boots. He should allow the King this small moment of peace. Faramir had a feeling that moments like this would be few and far between very soon. He sighed again. There wasn't enough time.

Faramir knocked softly on the doorframe and waited to be allowed to enter. 

Aragorn looked up at the unexpected intrusion with surprise. "Faramir!" he said, furiously wiping at the food in his beard, only succeeding in smearing it further. "What a pleasant surprise!"

Arwen stood gracefully and handed her husband a napkin. "Please join us," she said, moving to escort Faramir to a seat. "My husband was just showing me his excellent skills regarding our son's nutrition. Where are Eowyn and Elboron?"

"My lady," Faramir said, putting a hand on her arm, "I'm afraid they won't be joining us. In fact, I won't be joining you. I've come to tell you that it would be in you best interest to leave Minas Tirith and Gondor immediately."

Arwen let out a small sound of surprise. Aragorn's eyes hardened as he searched Faramir's face for any sign of what this was about.

"Why?" Aragorn asked simply.

Faramir rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had acquired since becoming Steward. "Please do not ask me this," he said quietly. "At least not until we are away from here."

Suddenly, the baby began to cry. Arwen quickly gathered him to her, and held him close. She did not like what she was hearing.

Faramir moved to stand in front of Aragorn and looked him directly in the eye. "Elessar," he began, "this isn't just about your safety. It's about your family's safety. It's about my family's safety."

Aragorn suddenly began to understand the importance of what was happening. His eyes held Faramir's. "Where do you suppose we should go?"

Faramir replied quickly. "Edoras. I believe that Eomer's counsel may be needed. By your leave, I would send for my uncle to govern the city."

Arwen spoke suddenly. "Faramir," she implored quietly. "I suppose there's no way to simply summon Eomer to Minas Tirith?" She held her son closer. "Must we uproot our families?"

Faramir shook his head. "I'm sorry, my lady, but I fear for our safety if we remain here." He glanced from Aragorn to Arwen. "I fear there is a traitor in the court of Minas Tirith, and I believe they want to kill you."


End file.
